A New Beginning
by MagicallyDelirious
Summary: When Iris West gets engaged to Eddie Thawne, a guy Barry Allen can't hate for anything, he decides it's time for him to strike out on his own. He secures a position as a CSI in small town USA hoping he can start over. He's got a new house mate, Leonard Snart, who he incidentally meets before he knows and he's already signed the lease. Haunted House AU no one asked for ColdFlash
1. Chapter 1

Moving four hours away seemed unnecessary and totally out of the blue as far as everyone with the exception of Barry Allen was concerned. It may have been a bit out of the blue, but very necessary in his opinion. The past two weeks had been spent either avoiding everyone he knew and or dodging questions about his sudden desire to live the quiet life in small town USA.

Joe, his foster father, was the only one who had picked up on the real reason Barry was moving, yet that knowledge didn't bring understanding. Barry felt guilty and had questioned his seemingly rash decision right up until his farewell breakfast.

He'd been waiting outside the diner for Joe and Iris when instead of just his foster sister and father showing up to bid him farewell they were accompanied by Eddie, Iris's fiancé and Joe's partner. Iris, who despite being Barry's foster sister, he'd been in love with for more than half his life.

Iris and Eddie had been holding hands smiling, laughing, and looking blissful as they approached with Joe looking rather grumpy a few paces behind. That's when Barry knew he made the right decision. Both Eddie and Iris beamed at him like he was one of the most important people on earth to them when they'd caught sight of him. Eddie was a good guy, he loved Iris the way she deserved to be loved, and no matter how much he wanted to, Barry just couldn't hate him.

He was pretty sure Eddie was impossible to hate, though Joe had done a pretty good job when he first found out they were together. He still didn't approve, but agreed when Barry had explained how unfair he was being and how all they should want for Iris was to be happy.

His decision to move had been made with that very thought in mind. Barry wanted Iris to be happy more than anything, more than he wanted himself to be happy, he really did, and he couldn't stick around anymore and watch her feel guilty for being happy. He didn't particularly enjoy living somewhere where every little thing reminded him of someone he wanted so bad, but would never have either.

This wasn't Barry picking up and running off out of the blue. This was Barry striking out on his own and making a new life for himself and praying that his heart ache would fade with time and distance.

That's what Barry was thinking about when he pulled into the parking lot of what looked to be the only restaurant in his new sleepy little town. The road he'd been driving on since he'd left the interstate had suddenly turned into the most cliché looking 50's main street he'd ever seen outside of the cinema. There was a gas station, a post office, a tech shop, which was a surprise, a bar that didn't look like it was open yet, a library, some mom and pop shops, clothing stores, a small grocery store, the police station where he'd be working, and the aged yet surprisingly clean looking diner he'd decided to check out. It was almost surreal.

Barry had never live anywhere but the city so the sleepy little town was a bit unsettling and nothing like he was used to. Suddenly his nerves hit him and he hit the brakes wondering if he could really do this, or if he should just turn around now and beg for his job back. He wasn't sure they'd give it back if he asked. He was pretty sure they wouldn't because he had given them exactly two weeks' notice and it had ruffled some feathers, which only escaladed his sudden mini panic attack.

He was just about to throw the car in reverse and high tail it home with his tail between his legs when the impatient reviving of a motorcycle engine yanked him out of his down spiral. He was just thanking god that he hadn't hit the gas therefore hitting whoever was behind him when the motorcycle's engine revved again before shooting around him and into the spot he had planned to pull into before he'd began his mini melt down.

Frustrated, angry, and upset about more than someone stealing his parking space Barry pressed down on his horn when the guy climbed off his bike, pulled of his helmet, and tucked it under his arm before starting to head around the side of the building without even sparing Barry a so much as a glance. Rude!

Barry immediately regretted his decision to express his discord when the man who was wearing a leather jack over what looked to be a white t-shirt, black riding boots, and a pair of faded jeans turned to glare at him. Barry was not a coward by any means, and the only reason he was a CSI and not an actual cop was because he was a bit clumsy and his flailing limbs got in the way, but he felt a strange chill run up his spine when the bikers piercing blue eyes met his.

For a split second he could do nothing but gape at the man, because in all his 26 years he'd never seen anyone so striking, but when the other man's lip curled into a cocky smirk he managed to narrow his eyes fast enough for it to be noted.

Not that it did anything aside from making the guys smirk widen, but he was sort of glad the last thing he saw of Barry was him expressing his displeasure at his unnecessary rudeness. It wasn't any kind of victory really, but it made him feel better for some reason.

The encounter with the mysterious man in the parking lot had not only pulled Barry out of his own head, but for some reason reminded him he was strong even though lately he felt like he was weak.

When Joe had accused him of running away and not fighting for what he wanted, he'd responded with what he was sure Joe's real problem was. He wanted Barry and Iris together as much as Barry wanted Barry and Iris together, and if Barry left there would be no 11th hour realization Joe so desperately hoped for. It wasn't Eddie really. It was that Eddie was not only a cop, but his partner.

Barry had thrown the words at Joe like a weapon, like he was insulted or something, but in truth it had come out that way because it had hit close to home. He had questioned more than once if this was him trying to do the right thing or running away from a difficult situation. It had nagged him and made him feel weak, but right now he didn't feel so weak for some reason.

Glaring at a rude biker wasn't exactly the bravest or smartest thing in the whole world, but he'd done it, and it made him feel better, so he would take it for now.

It would be a complete lie if he said his heart hadn't been pounding as he entered the diner immediately scanning for any sign of the gorgeous angry biker or that he hadn't relaxed considerably when he didn't find anyone meeting that description. He didn't find even a regular gorgeous biker let alone an angry one. He was filled with a strange mix of relief and disappointment as a rather beautiful somewhat older looking woman led him to a small booth in the far right corner of the small building.

He thanked her after she took his drink order and opened his menu, though he didn't really need to look at it. Diner's had mostly everything you could want no matter what time of day it was, which was one of the reason they were his favorite. The other was his mom had always had an affinity for them. She'd worked in one when she was younger and he remembered no matter where they were she always seemed to be able to find one. Trying the pie was a must too.

That's why Barry was here. To try the pie. His mom always insisted it could only be considered a good diner if they had good pie so it should be eaten first. Joe had always made him eat real food first, so out of habit he ordered a burger and fries, because without having tried the pie to determine the diner's quality it was a safe choice. He wasn't disappointed either. It was one of the best burgers he'd ever had let alone from a diner.

As he munched away Clarissa refilled his drink, and smiled at him. For the first time since Iris had gotten engaged he felt content. He just hoped his new roommate, or house mate was going to be okay. Barry could get along with almost anyone, but that didn't mean everyone got along with Barry. He never had any friends growing up outside of Iris, who while he thought she counted, most people didn't because she was his sister.

Barry wouldn't consider himself the best roommate in the world, but he certainly wasn't the worst. Sure, he was a little messy, but not dirty, and he liked to fall asleep with the T.V. on because he'd never really been fond of the dark, but all in all he kept pretty much to himself, so he didn't foresee any major problems. He'd actually been sort of excited if he was being honest.

Not that he knew a whole lot about the guy he'd be living with aside from his name, which was Leonard Snart, and that he'd decided to offer him a room when someone mentioned the new CSI couldn't find anywhere else to stay that would allow him to begin work when they needed him. So all in all Barry thought he was probably a pretty nice guy. From his e-mails he seemed pretty formal, but intelligent, so that was a plus.

By the time Clarissa had come back to collect his plate and recommend a special apple pie cheese cake, which was their bakers secret recipe, he was feeling more optimistic than he had in a long time. Aside from the rude biker everything here already seemed like it was going well.

Better than he'd hoped actually. His opinion of this sleepy little town only got higher when he took his first bite of Piecake, which is what he dubbed it when he couldn't remember what it was actually called.

It was the best thing he'd ever tasted in his life. He actually sort of moaned when he took his first bite making Clarissa laugh before she told him she couldn't wait to tell their baker, because he wouldn't accept anyone he knew's word claiming they were biased. Barry nodded and smiled, because he'd taken another bite and it was rude to talk with your mouth full before she walked away leaving him to enjoy his own little piece of heaven.

Barry whined a little after he swallowed his last bite wondering if he should order another slice. Sweets were his weakness. He had a tendency to eat more than was normal for someone his size, but that was because he was a runner, or at least that's what he told everyone.

"Well, well, well," Barry froze at the sound of a deep male voice that sent a strange yet familiar shiver up his spine as he frowned down at his plate. "Haven't even touched you yet and I've already got you moaning and whining."

Heat rushed to Barry cheeks due to embarrassment and a little bit of anger mixed with irritation and something that oddly felt like excitement maybe? Somehow before he even looked up he knew when he did he was going to find his rude yet admittedly gorgeous biker smirking down at him.

"You stole my parking spot," Barry accused after a beat, forcing himself to look up, deciding to cling to the anger, because it was easiest, and he was suddenly a bit jumbled.

Normally when Barry was within a ten-foot radius of someone he found attractive he turned into the world's biggest goober and his voice didn't work properly. He was pretty proud of himself, even when the smirk on the other guys face widened when he noticed Barry's blush.

"Your name wasn't on it."

"I was getting ready to pull in," Barry countered when Rude Biker's smirk grew, though that wasn't exactly true.

"You slammed on your brakes in the middle of the parking lot, which, not safe by the way,"

Barry didn't appreciate getting safety lessons from someone that has sped around him so recklessly, but considering he'd almost turned him into a Rude Biker pancake during his mini melt down he didn't say that. He could not, however, suppress his indignant huff when the other man slid into the booth across from him, which the other man ignored it aside from a low chuckle.

"I heard you liked Lisa's Golden Caramel Apple Pie Cheesecake," the guy said after Barry didn't respond opting to just narrow his eyes to signal to the other man his presence was not welcome.

"Yes, I did," Barry's reply was a little clipped because he was having trouble keeping his eyes narrowed instead of openly gawking.

Amusement was sparkling in the piercing blue eyes he'd noticed even in the slightly dimly lit parking lot making them look all the more appealing. Striking had definitely been an understatement though. What he was looking at went beyond striking. Aside from amazingly symmetrical features the other man had a jaw line that sort of made Barry feel weak in the knees. Without the leather jacket Barry could see well-toned muscles bulging out from under his white t-shirt. If all of that wasn't enough of a distraction when the guy noticed Barry's eyes slid from his bulging biceps to his lips, which looked impossibly soft and oh so kissable, he chuckled before the tip of his tongue darted out to wet them in what Barry thought might be a teasing manner.

"Please, give her my compliments," Barry said quickly looking away when he'd realized he'd been caught. "It was very good."

He could feel his blush creeping all the way down his neck to his chest. Embarrassed didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling. Barry was used to making a fool of himself, but somehow this just felt worse. He just moved here, hell, he wasn't even moved here, and found the best thing he's ever put in his mouth, and after this he wasn't going to be able to come back.

"I prefer he, but thank you."

"What?" Barry's wide eyes found the other man's face. He wasn't shocked by the pronoun thing, to each their own, it didn't matter to him, but Rude Biker was also an amazing baker? Was he in the twilight zone? Finding a smile instead of a smirk made his heart flutter and him farther uncomfortable. The smirk was sexy, but the smile was something else. "You're the baker?"

"I am," Barry's flush deepened when it clicked he'd about already making him moan and whine. He knew the realization dawned on his face when the other man chuckled again. "Lisa is my baby sister. I created the recipe for her. It's her favorite."

"Well, that was nice of you, it's very good. You must really like her," Barry didn't give too much thought as to what he was saying, feeling torn between wanting to escape and never leaving when his comment elicited another rumbling chuckle.

The shrill ringing of his cell phone startled him earning him another what he thought was a genuine smile. A bit sheepishly though sort of relieved by the interruption he fished his phone out of his pocket.

"My sister," Barry said holding up the phone as though maybe the guy didn't hear it ringing before unlocking the screen to answer it.

He knew it was a bit rude, but he was squirming under the other man's gaze.

Barry thought he saw a small frown, which was more of just a twitch of the other man's lips before he was sure he imagined it, because suddenly the cocky smirk was back and with a nod the other man got to his feet and walked back towards what Barry assumed was the kitchen door. His heart sank a little as he watched him go, feeling somehow a little bit hallow. Only when Iris called his name for the fourth time did he realize he was frowning at the swinging door his Rude Biker disappeared through.

This place was going to either be heaven or hell, and Barry was afraid that with his luck it was going to be later.


	2. Chapter 2

Hearing Iris's voice always made him feel a bit better about everything. Her excitement about his big move sort of rubbed off on him as he paid his bill. It still made him a little sad too though, because he missed her already. She was talking a mile a minute, already planning a visit as he went back to the table to leave a generous tip for Clarissa whose recommendation had been stellar despite the unfortunate fact the man who created his little piece of heaven was quite the guy who rudely stole his parking spot.

Not to mention he looked like something straight out of a GQ photo shoot. Barry decided he had to stay away at all costs. Rude Biker had bad boy and trouble written all over him. Barry had no intentions of opening himself up for more heart ache any time in the near future, and judging by the chill the other man elicited with just his voice Barry would be in deep trouble. He was very aware that, that man could absolutely ruin him in the best and most terrifying ways possible. Besides all of that, he could bake. Not just bake, it was more than that; a gift. That Piecake had been the best thing Barry had ever tasted. He was also suddenly very aware he was probably already in trouble.

"Bear," Iris cut in irritably as he was weighing how believable it would be if he came back insisting it was just for Piecake, anyone who tasted it would definitely believe that. "Are you even listening to me?"

"I always listen to you," Barry replied, though he had been a little lost in his own head, so he went back to the last thing he remembered. "You're coming to visit even if I say no."

"Yea, but when?" Iris challenged.

She always knew what was going on in his head, even over the phone, aside from them whole Barry being in love with her thing of course.

"After I'm settled in?"

"3 weeks, Barry Allen, a whole weekend just me and you," Iris said firmly.

Barry wasn't sure if he was comfortable with that, because he'd moved needing both time and distance, but Iris was his best friend and he missed her. Three weeks wasn't a whole lot of time to forget his heart ache, and if Iris was here there was no distance. He bit his lip not wanting to hurt her feelings as he tried to figure out how he was going to explain.

"Sir," Clarissa's voice called after him as he pushed open the front door saving him from having to respond just yet.

Barry was nothing if not a worrier and or a bit spastic as Iris often reminded him. Immediately negative scenarios flashed through his mind. Everything from his card was belatedly declined, because he forgot to pay his bill again, to he was he being banned for life.

"Yes, ma'am," Barry's voice expressed his nerves as he turned around to find her holding out a Styrofoam box. "What's this?"

"An apology," she smiled somewhat knowingly at him as she pushed it into his hands.

His eyes darted to the kitchen door of their own accord and he swore he saw Rude Biker smirking at him through the small window before he blinked and he was gone. Was this some sort of prank?

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen him smile or laugh like that."

"There's a difference between laughing with someone and laughing at someone," Barry informed her, though he couldn't help blushing at her interpretation of the conversation, still, he knew he was that guy who was laughed at more so than with. Hope wasn't always a good thing, especially not for Barry Allen.

"Yes, there is," she replied still smiling with a certain glint in her eyes that made him feel the need to look away.

"Well, um thank you," Barry felt like it was well past time he got out of there. "Tell him I said thank you too. It was, um, nice meeting you, ma'am."

"Call me Clarissa…"

"Barry, Barry Allen," he supplied when she paused and stuck out his hand.

"Well, Barry Allen," there was a new glint of excitement in her eyes when she took his hand. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

Barry nodded with a bit of a strained smile, because she seemed so sure, and he'd already decided not to come back, ever, unless maybe sometimes for Piecake when Rude Biker wasn't here. He thanked her as she smiled back, which could only could be described as something akin to a cat got the canary look on her face, like she knew a secret or something and it made him flush nervously.

"What was that?" Iris asked when he finally made it to the parking lot. "Who was laughing at you, cause I can be there tomorrow if…"

"No Iris, it's fine," Barry cut her off as he made it to his car.

He hadn't planned on telling Iris the tale of the gorgeous rude biker with the smile and jaw line that made him weak in the knees, and the rumbling chuckle that sent chills down his spine, that baked like an angel, but as he started his car he found himself spilling all of it. Her delighted squeals did nothing to quell his unease, or squash the hope that bloomed in his chest without his permission.

Eddie's arrival home had saved him from having to make any promises to go back to the diner. Which he was grateful for, but at the same time made him frown sort of wanting the excuse. Barry hit the button on his steering wheel and Iris's and Eddie's enthusiastic greeting was abruptly ended leaving Barry feeling very alone. The hollowness he'd felt when Rude Bike had walked away was back and then some. This whole thing might've been a really bad idea. That notion was reinforced when he approached his new home.

The hair on Barry's arms stood on end as goose bumps ghosted across his flesh when he pulled farther into the drive way. It was an almost ancient looking two story home, though seemed to be in excellent condition. The wrap around porch looked to have been redone recently and the light blue paint that covered the outside seemed to be fairly fresh as well. All the windows seemed to have been replaced aside from one. He thought it was stained glass, which was the highest up making him conclude it was in the attic.

Had it not been for the goose bumps and strange sense of foreboding Barry would have fallen in love right then and there. There was even a small white picket fence lining the front yard.

Barry took a deep breath trying to push away the ridiculous images of ghosts and goblins that popped into his head as he put the car in park. He shook off an unsettling shiver before he managed to force himself to get out. He didn't want his new house mate to question why he'd sat in the drive way for so long. 'Because I'm pretty sure your house is haunted,' wasn't exactly the best opening statement.

When Barry got to the door laden with as much as he could carry in one go without risking damaging what he hoped was a slice of that delicious Piecake he suddenly realized he'd been so distracted he hadn't noticed there wasn't another car in the drive. The door was locked, which was so his luck. He sighed dropping his things a little irritated, because Leonard had said he would be home when Barry arrived so he hadn't thought to ask about a spare key.

Unlocking his phone, he suddenly felt a little bad about being irritated and his hasty conclusion about how his new house mate was a jerk when he saw he had a text from Leonard, who he'd been about to call and bitch at, from well over two hours ago.

Leonard: Hey, I'm sorry I could not be there to greet you in person and help you unpack. Unfortunately, I have to go to work, someone called out last minute. There is a key under the middle flower pot set at the far right side of the porch. Your bedroom is upstairs, whichever one you want. Mine is downstairs. I'm sure it's already been a long day for you, so I will encourage you to bring in what you need for tonight and we can finish the rest tomorrow. I had plans to make dinner, but don't really have the time now. Anything you can find you're more than welcome to. I'm not sure what time I will be home, so make sure you lock up before you go to bed. Again I am sorry, I really had planned to be there, but I guess you just can't plan for everything, though I certainly make an effort. Hope you settle in alright and I will see you either tonight or tomorrow.

Barry read the message three times and couldn't help smiling, and he wasn't even wholly sure why. He had a feeling he was going to like his new house mate before, and while he was disappointed with his absence, there was a strange flutter in his chest at the other man's thoughtfulness.

The key had been right where Leonard said it would be and Barry had been pleasantly surprised when he actually got in the house. It looked quite cozy even if at first it struck him as a bit formal. He'd taken his new house mate's advice and brought only what he would need in. Not that he'd brought a ton of stuff figuring it would be easier on Joe if he didn't move everything out in one go, but he liked the idea of Leonard helping him, even if it was just a chance to get to know him better and spend a little time with him.

He'd always been jealous of people who had those "my best friend who was my roommate in college" stories, because he'd stayed at home through college and he sort of hoped he would get the chance to actually have a roommate, who might become at least a friend that wasn't his foster father or sister.

There were four bedrooms upstairs and Barry had chosen the one at the far end of the hallway and not just because it had its own bathroom. It was the one that felt least foreboding. As he unpacked he tried to push away what he was sure was his own over active imagination. The home was old and creaky and he didn't particularly like being here all alone. A few loud bangs that came from above had his heart racing. He'd always been told he had an over active imagination.

A particularly loud bang as though something had been knocked over had him scurrying past the door which he was convinced led to the basement after he'd gotten too antsy and decided maybe it was time to check out the down stairs.

Barry was a scientist, so his belief in the super natural came as a surprise to most, especially his colleagues. Barry thought their ridicule was ridiculous, because as a scientist they knew there were just some things out there that couldn't be explained away. It had nothing to do with his experience with the impossible lightning he'd seen the night his mother was murdered. The impossible was out there and no matter how many times someone told him it wasn't he knew it was. Ghosts were just another thing that seemed impossible, but were totally real as far as he was concerned.

That line of thinking had put a damper on whatever ease he'd found in talking to Iris or reading the text from Leonard so he decided he would indulge in his apology Piecake. It was even better the second time around, and since there was no one around he didn't bother to even try to suppress his vocalized appreciations. His attempts to savor every bite slowly proved impossible, because it was just too good. Soon he was frowning down at the empty Styrofoam box, though it had made him feel better.

A yawn escaped when he finished washing the glass he'd used for milk and he decided it was time for a shower then bed. It had been a long day, and he wasn't sure when Leonard would be home. He didn't want to seem weird waiting up for him either. Today hadn't been great, but it hadn't been awful either aside from a hiccup or two. Climbing into bed, ignoring the creaking of the old house as best he could, he promised himself tomorrow would be better.

Barry sat bolt upright in bed unsure of what had woken him up. His breathing was already a little uneven and his heart was racing, which became even more so when a soft thud from down stairs made him jump a bit. He slid out of bed unsure of whether or not it was his imagination or if there was an intruder in the house. Carefully he crept over to the window and peeked through the blinds. He only saw his car in the drive way which told him Leonard wasn't home yet.

The sounds of footsteps and creaking floor boards below had him tip toeing over to the closet where he'd seen a hockey stick earlier. It wouldn't do much against the ghosts, but it made him feel better, Barry really didn't like the dark. If it was an intruder, which he really didn't think it was, because he'd locked up tight as instructed and they had a state of the art security system, it could buy him time to get away.

When he reached his door he hesitated with his phone in one hand ready to take a picture and the hockey stick in the other. His heart was pounding in his ears and he had to take a few steadying breaths before he forced himself to continue. He wasn't the stealthiest person in the world and some of the floor boards creaked under foot as his mind bounced between just crawling back under his covers and ignoring it and pressing on to get a picture.

Barry had chased the impossible his whole life, and while proving ghosts existed wouldn't explain what happened to his mom, it would show at least Joe he hadn't made up the story about what happened that night.

That thought kept his feet moving as he quietly padded down the steps. There was another small thump when he'd reached the bottom coming from the room he assumed was Leonard's.

He was almost to the door when it swung open startling him. He let out something that sounded like a squeak as the bright flash of his camera phone went off when his finger slipped. There was a shout along with the sound of someone stumbling. Barry let out a yelp and dropping his phone as he realized it wasn't a ghost but a real person. The shadow stumbled forward causing Barry to do the only thing he could think of in his panic.

With something between another yelp and a shout he brought the hockey stick down in a chopping motion. The cry that followed told him he'd gotten whoever it was, though he panicked farther when he realized he'd dropped his phone and couldn't find it to call the police.

"What the fuck?!" A familiar voice questioned angrily as Barry skittered backward down the hall away from the intruder causing him to stop dead.

A bright light illuminated the hallway and Barry's jaw dropped.

"What are you doing here?" Barry snapped though his heart sank when he saw blood streaming down the side of his Rude Biker's face leaving him unable to do much more.

"I live here!"

"No you don't," Barry's eyes had widened in disbelief, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I live here. Leonard lives here."

"I assure you I do. I'm Leonard, though I prefer Len, Bartholomew," the other man, Leonard, replied before glaring at him suddenly looking angrier as he glanced at the hockey stick clutched in Barry's hand. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I… I," Barry started struggling to process this new unsettling development while explaining his ridiculous behavior without sounding crazy as he dropped the stick as though it had burned him. "I thought you were… I thought…"

"Jesus," Leonard huffed and Barry rushed forward to help him to his feet when he began to wobble as he pushed himself to his feet.

Judging by the way Leonard was gripping Barry and how heavily he was leaning on him he needed to sit down somewhere before they both ended up on the floor. Wobbly or not though, Barry could feel the anger radiating off his new house mate.

"You need to sit," Barry said nervously wrapping his arms around the other man as best he could to support him, before trying to guide him over to the bed.

"A hockey stick?" Leonard, Len, asked glaring up at him once again after the wave of dizziness or nausea, whatever plagued him faded, making Barry shrink back a bit.

This was not good, not even okay; this was awful.

"I.. I'm sorry," Barry took a step back as the other man pulled his shirt over his head before pushing it to the gash on his forehead. He sollowed hard forcing himself not to stare before he continued. "I didn't know it was you… I didn't know you were Leonard, Len… I thought it was… well I thought it was a ghost…"

"A ghost?"

He could only see one of Len's eyes because the other was covered by his now blood stained white shirt, but he thought he looked not only angrier but incredulous. Barry nibbled on his bottom lips glad it was dark, knowing he was full body blushing as he nodded.

"A ghost?" He repeated as the one eye Barry could see narrowed. "Your first thought was it was a fucking ghost? What if I'd been an intruder Bartholomew?"

"That's what the Hockey Stick was for!" Barry countered, because it kind of was and it kind of worked.

Len looked like he might pass out, causing guilt to gnaw at Barry's stomach. He should probably call a doctor or an ambulance.

"A Hockey Stick?" Len started to get to his feet angrily, but a wave of dizziness forced him back on the bed. Barry's hands were on the other man's shoulders steadying him before he even thought about it. "A Hockey Stick… what if they'd had a gun? What was your Hockey Stick gonna do? You'd be dead."

"A gun?"

"Yes, Barry a gun," Len glared up at him.

"I didn't think…"

"That's obvious," Len's features and eyes softened when their eyes met and he saw the guilt and terror Barry felt at that little revelation. "Jesus kid, you have to be more careful."

"I'm sorry," Barry replied, because he didn't know what else to say or do.

He hadn't actually thought it was an intruder. The Hockey Stick had made him just feel a bit better. He hated the dark and having something in his hand had always helped. Barry didn't think about a gun or being hurt or killed, he just wanted a picture. Len had thought about it though, and even after Barry had given him what was probably a mild concussion that's what he was mad about.

"I'm sorry," he said again looking down at Len, his Rude Biker. "I… I'm really sorry."

Len opened his mouth to reply but the sound of approaching sirens cut him off and he growled instead trying to push to his feet. Barry tried to stop him, but the other man pushed his hands away rather forcefully. Barry decided it was probably better to help since the other man seemed determined, but Len didn't seem to want his help and shot him a glare that made his chest tighten before he let go holding up his hands in surrender.

"Fuck," Len grumbled. "Worst fucking idea ever."

Barry stood there for a moment with his heart sinking farther than it had in a long time. Not only did his new house mate hate him already, but he had to explain to his new co-workers he'd given said house mate a concussion, because he gone to check out the noise with a Hockey Stick and a camera instead of calling 911 thinking he was a ghost. What had been a somewhat of promising new beginning had quickly turned into a nightmare.

* * *

AN: I'm gonna have to change the name Len gave to Barry in chapter one to Leonard Wynters, like the comics because... plot bunny. Thank you guys for all the support as always you're amazing. HAPPY NEW YEARS!


	3. Chapter 3

Barry remained standing in the middle of Len's bedroom with his heart in his throat even after he heard Leonard, Len, answer the door and another voice greet him. This was impressive even for him. Less than 12 hours and he managed to ruin everything. This was worse than awful. This was a complete disaster.

The highest hopes he'd harbored for his new beginning had been shattered.

There was no way in hell his new house mate was going to be his friend now. To a lot of people that sounded pathetic, but Barry had always wanted someone in his life, a friend, that didn't make him feel like an obligation. Lease, or no lease Leonard, Len, was probably going to demand he move out ASAP. Barry couldn't really blame him. He wouldn't even argue when he did.

It had nothing to do with his Leonard also being Len, his rude biker. That wasn't even a connection his brain could make at the moment. His Leonard, though they'd only exchanged a few e-mails and texts; the Leonard that was hopefully going to be his first real friend that wasn't a "family member" or just so by default, did not match up with the reality of his gorgeous rude biker. His gorgeous rude biker that baked like an angel, with a jaw line that made him weak in the knees, a voice that sent a pleasant slightly unsettling shiver up his spine, alluring icy blue eyes, and a smile that felt like it was everything. They just didn't quite mesh in his mind, and he honestly wasn't sure he wanted them to.

The fact that they were one in the same made it all seem so much worse, not to mention he was thinking of both of them, though separately, as his already.

Quite the fucking disaster.

An elevated irritated voice that was not Leonard's, Len's, pulled him out of his head. "Yes or no, is there or is there not another injured person in the house?"

Barry's suddenly felt even worse as guilt hit him hard. He was being a coward, standing here indulging in his own pity party, while his new house mate who probably had a concussion dealt with the resulting fall out when the events leading up to this ridiculousness were his fault.

"No," it was one word, but now that he was paying attention, he noticed Len didn't sound like Len, or Leonard for that matter, either.

The voice he heard didn't match his cocky gorgeous rude biker, nor the angry house mate he whacked in the head with a hockey stick. It was somehow harder, colder, which made Barry worry. Worrying was something Barry could do. It allowed him to collect himself and move.

He quickly darted into the bathroom grabbing a hand towel and a wash cloth he ran under warm water then steeled himself for his roommate's probable anger and the inevitable embarrassment of admitting his silliness to one of his new co-workers.

"You lying to me Wynters?" The other voice questioned with a bit of triumph mixing with his condescending angry tone. "Mrs. Lee said she heard two distinct voices, the car in the drive doesn't belong to you, so tell me again there's no one else here. I'm pretty sure faucets don't just turn on by themselves."

"Barry, could you come out here," his stomach was already in knots. "One would think a Deputy of the caliber you so graciously assign yourself would possess the ability to ask questions in such a way that afforded them the answers they sought."

Barry swallowed hard as he entered the living room holding out the hand towel to replace the bloodied t-shirt along the warm wash cloth because the amount of blood made his stomach turn. He was well aware head wounds had a tendency to bleed more, but it didn't stop him from feel sick at the sight.

"Deputy Grodd, meet Barry Allen," Leonard, Len, he needed to remind himself to call him Len even in his own head, said with a grand sweeping gesture. "Barry Allen, Deputy Grodd. As you can clearly see Deputy, there is no other injured persons in my home."

"I'll be the judge of that," Deputy Grodd answered as Barry held out the towel and wash cloth a timidly towards Len, who's eyes glinted with something Barry couldn't quite identify before he accepted them. "Sir, are you injured?"

The spark that accompanied the light brushing of the other man's fingers against his own when he took the towel from Barry had derailed his train of thought. Not to mention he saw the amount of blood caked on his roommate's face when he replaced his t-shirt made Barry's stomach turn and it difficult to concentrate on anything else. "What?"

"Are. You. Injured?" The Deputy asked slowly as though Barry was stupid.

Barry figured Len wanted to deal with this before being doctored, he didn't quite agree with that, but it was the least he could do considering it was all his fault. Barry tore his eyes from his new housemate's now unreadable expression, which proved more difficult than he cared to admit and was finally afforded his first good look at the Deputy.

The Deputy's condescending voice matched the air of superiority his posture held. He had dark brown hair and a squished face. He was taller and thicker than the average man, and while Barry never liked to comment on someone's looks in a negative manner the guy strongly resembled a gorilla.

Barry immediately disliked him.

"No," Barry answered. "I'm sure Len's already explained this was just a…"

"A misunderstanding, yes, he did, but I am asking you," Deputy Grodd cut him off, his distaste for Len all too apparent, which made Barry's anger flare. "Would you like to press charges?"

Ensuring Barry was alright, was part of Grodd's job, but this had nothing to do with that. Had that been a real concern he'd have separated them to ask.

It seemed the Deputy had it out for his house mate and wasn't interested in getting actual answers. Barry vaguely wondered why, but as far as he was concerned in this moment that wasn't important. He didn't hear the entire conversation, but he was certain Deputy Grodd hadn't asked Len if he wanted to press charges and he was the one covered in blood.

His blatant bias did not sit well with Barry at all. He couldn't help the look of disgust that flickered across his face. Joe was a hard ass, but he was an honorable cop and a good dad, who taught Barry and Iris the difference between right and wrong, this, right here, was absolutely wrong.

"It was a misunderstanding," Barry reiterated unable to keep his distaste out of his voice. "Maybe you could try actually waiting for me to finish my response instead of trying to push your own agenda. While I'm at it, shouldn't you have at least asked Len if he needed medical treatment by now, not to mention if he wanted to press charges? Your job as a first responder is to assist first and foremost after it is determined there is no immediate danger to yourself or anyone else. You've certainly been here long enough. You're supposed to be objective, which it is unfortunately, painfully obvious you're not."

Barry hadn't meant to let his anger get the best of him, but this guy was an insult to everything Joe taught him the badge stood for and his voice had increased in volume as he went on. He thought he saw Len's eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"Do you require medical assistance, Mr. Wynters?" A new calm voice asked preventing the Deputy from responding just as Grodd's features contorted to match Barry's display of anger.

Despite the voice's calm Barry sort of started. He'd been too angry and busy admonishing his new colleague's abhorrent behavior to notice someone else had come through the still open front door. Len stiffened beside him, which set him on edge despite the new arrival giving no real indication he should be.

He became farther uncomfortable when realized during his small tirade he'd gotten so close to Len he could feel the heat radiating from his body as though he was showing, not only verbally but physically, where his allegiances lay. Barry's cheeks heated for some reason at that realization, but he quickly told himself his allegiances lay with what was right, not so much Len.

"Fine, Sheriff," the coldness in Len's voice increased, though his face gave nothing away.

"You look like you could use a few stitches," the Sheriff, who Barry remembered was called Wells, ignored Len's reply and turned to Deputy Grodd. "Go ring Dr. Snow."

"That's not necessary," Len replied without any of the irritation or anger Barry felt radiating from him in his voice.

It was quite impressive, if still a bit unsettling, but Barry ignored that and turned to his new house mate.

"You should really see a doctor, Len," Barry insisted quietly, because he wasn't sure what the other man's reaction would be, considering it wasn't really his place. Len turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. Despite the urge to take a step back, Barry held his ground; his genuine concern clearly evident in his voice. "Please."

Len held his eyes for an extended moment and Barry was sure if the other man's eyes weren't narrowed they would have widened enough to show his surprise at his plea, judging by the way his brow furrowed. Before he could think too much on it Len turned from him and gave Sheriff Wells a curt nod, who then nodded at Deputy Grodd, who took it as an order to call Dr. Snow.

"Apologies for my Deputy's behavior," Wells said once Grodd was out the door without waiting for a response as to whether or not they were willing to accept focused solely on Barry. "It won't happen again, I assure you."

Barry bristled at the realization Wells was only apologizing to him, but was distracted by Len's shoulder bumping against his. He wasn't sure whether Len was trying to tell him something or he was getting dizzy again, but he didn't want to take any chances. His anger was immediately replaced with concern.

"You need to sit, Len," carefully, but firmly he gripped Len's arm in attempts to guide him over to the nearby love seat and was grateful when he was offered no resistance. Len's lack of resistance emboldened him. "Let me clean you up."

Barry felt Wells' eyeing him, but did his best to push it away, and was grateful when he heard his footfalls fading as he headed down the steps. Momentarily or not he was glad to be rid of him if only because it made Len relax a bit.

Len looked up at him warily for a moment when he held his hand out for the wash cloth. Barry offered him a small what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Tentatively, almost mirroring the way Barry had earlier, but somehow with more caution, Len placed the still damp cloth in Barry's out stretched hand. Taking a seat on the arm of the chair Barry used his fingertips to tilt Len's chin up so as to see a little better.

He shook off the fact he felt like this was somehow some sort of victory.

The cloth was no longer warm, but he was afraid if he went to remedy that, Len would refuse his help the second time around. Len's eyes were difficult to read when what Barry had already come to think of as his mask fell away and a half a dozen different emotions swirled in his eyes as Barry gently began to wipe away the blood. The blood was already somewhat dried and sticky so it wasn't working so well, but it was enough to make it less gruesome.

Taking care of Len oddly felt as natural as breathing.

"Tilt your head a bit?" Barry's voice was no more than a whisper as he cradled the back of Len's neck, extending his thumb enough to caress the other man's jaw with the pad of his thumb in hopes he would relax farther.

When it worked he didn't stop and even began murmuring apologies as he carefully cleaned around the gash in the other man's forehead. This was not something he had planned when he offered his help, but he couldn't stop himself from caressing Len's cheek when he began to wipe away some of the blood that had trickled down the side of his neck.

Touching Len, taking care of Len made him feel… well, it wasn't really something Barry could describe with any accuracy, but whole was the first word that came to mind.

Barry had been unprepared for any of this. The way his heart fluttered as Len's eyes slid closed for a moment when he gently cupped his jaw directing him to tilt his head back and the other man let out a breath that sounded more like a sigh, or the way heat pooled in his belly when they slid open again blazing with something that looked like desire.

Suddenly both his Leonard, and his rude biker, Len, meshed perfectly in his mind's eyes.

He'd been very careful to make no sudden movements, to keep his touch light, but when Len's eyes flickered quickly between his lips and his eyes, Barry wanted nothing more in that moment than to tighten his grip and pull Len forward; to see if those lips were as soft and as kissable as they looked.

The sudden pounding of footsteps racing across the front porch reminded Barry they weren't alone. Len tensed more so than he had all night and quickly moved away from him. Instinctively Barry turned towards the door shielding Len from what exactly, he wasn't sure, but it proved unnecessary.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner," a young dark skinned Deputy came barreling into the living room looking worried. At the sound of the new voice Len relaxed considerably making Barry feel a bit foolish. "I was at chow when the first call came in, but when I got back in my car I heard Wells call out with Grodd and came as soon as I could. I called mom too when gorilla boy called dispatch to call Cait. They should be here soon. Jesus are you alright?"

"Fine, just a misunderstanding," Len sounded irritated, but didn't tense again, not even when the newcomer scoffed and moved in for a closer look. "You shouldn't have called your mom."

"And have her mad at me too? Yea, not happening, you should've called her yourself," the Deputy apparently had no problem with accepting Len's word for it. He frowned before turning to speak to Barry, who was grateful his voice held none of the accusation or anger he'd been worried about considering they seemed to be on friendly terms. "You did this?"

"With a hockey stick," Len informed him, before Barry could respond.

"A hockey stick?" Barry felt his face flush at the reminder of his own silliness. "Why?"

"He startled me," Barry replied a bit defensively readying himself for another dressing down.

"He thought I was a ghost," Barry glared at Len feeling somehow betrayed, which was ridiculous, but it had felt as though they were somehow on the same side when his house mate hadn't divulged that particular detail to the other two officers. "Wanted a picture."

"Another one for team ghost," the Deputy said surprising Barry with his sudden excitement. "This place is creepy right? My friend Cisco, he owns the tech store in town, thinks it's haunted too. Len doesn't believe us, but I swears we saw something."

That was definitely not the reaction Barry had anticipated so it left him a little off kilter and unable to respond tight away.

"Don't you think a more appropriate response would be to admonish Mr. Allen for his failure to contact authorities considering it's much more likely to have been an intruder rather than a ghost. Not to mention confronting an intruder with nothing more than a hockey stick and a camera is dangerous and stupid?" Len's annoyance was clear causing Deputy Jackson to look a bit sheepish.

"Well, yea, next time you should definitely call, but I can totally understand why you thought it was a ghost. I'd have thought the same thing, but Len's right, even if you do work for the department and all, it's dangerous. Still, it's too bad you didn't get a picture."

"Impossible," Len muttered shaking his head as much as his injury would allow.

"Not impossible, ghosts are totally real," Jackson replied, though Barry was sure he knew that's not what Len meant.

Deputy Jackson offered an almost conspiratorial smile as if to say Len was the impossible one. It made him feel less excluded, which was how he felt when the Deputy had barged in with such familiarity.

"I'm Jefferson Jackson by the way, but you can call me Jax," Jax held out his hand and Barry took it opening his mouth to introduce himself, but Jax apparently already knew who he was. "Barry Allen, I know." Jax's smile got wider as he continued. "It's a small town and my mom told me she'd already met you when I called to tell her, though I didn't know you were in town yet. My mom, Clarissa, said Len was so smitten, the idiot had no idea it was you until mom told him after she delivered the apology…"

"Don't you have something else you should be doing Deputy Jackson?" Len cut in quickly, "like paper work or not running your mouth?"

"Right, Sorry, sometimes people just see what they want to see," Jax ducked his head, though Barry had a feeling his "slip of the tongue" wasn't that at all, but realized he'd just embarrassed at least Barry. Len, however, just looked what he thought was disgusted. "I'll just go wait outside…"

Jax didn't finish his statement, the sound of footsteps signaling several people were making their way across the porch. Len's relaxed state disappeared once again and his mask was back in place and Barry instinctively followed suit.

The first person through the door was the waitress, Clarissa, from the dinner looking nothing aside from worried, followed by a cute young woman with an old fashioned doctors bag tucked under her arm looking irritated which reinforced Barry guilt, then Sheriff Wells bringing up the rear. Barry was glad to see Deputy Grodd hadn't made his return and even happier when he heard a car pull out of the drive way. He quickly backed away from Len as the new comers gathered around.

"I swear you boys give me more gray hair every day," Clarissa admonished in a concerned mother sort of way, which made Barry sort of uncomfortable, because while the words were unfamiliar Clarissa's tone reminded him very much of his own mother.

"I'm fine, this is all quite unnecessary," Len's voice was stern, but in a way that made Barry think he was trying to reassure her.

"I'm the doctor I get to decide that," Dr. Snow informed him.

"Grodd didn't give you any trouble, did he?" Len asked, an edge Barry had yet to hear.

"Nothing, I can't handle," she replied examining his face with her hands hovering a good bit away from making skin to skin contact. "He's already gone Len," Dr. Snow cut in with her own edge as she pulled out a pen light. Len glared over her at Wells. "You're probably gonna need a few stitches."

At that Clarissa made her way into the kitchen and Barry heard the water turn on as Dr. Snow shined the light in Len's eyes, before returning with an ice pack, which was something he should have done, but he'd been such a mess.

Len recounted the story for the new comers, though, thankfully, leaving out the ghosts this time. Still, Barry felt more uncomfortable and more and more as though he didn't belong.

Clarissa, Dr. Snow, and Jax seemed at ease and seemed to know where everything was without having to ask. It reminded him despite actually living here he was very much an outsider. It didn't help he had a suspicion his roommate was making it a point to ignore his presence, not even sparing him so much as a glance.

"Looks like everything here is under control, Deputy Jackson," Wells said after Dr. Snow told Len they needed to move to the kitchen to stich, motioning for Jax that it was time to go, before focusing on Barry, who was still standing off to the side by the fire place. It sent a very unpleasant chill up his spine causing him to stiffen a bit. "Mr. Allen, I look forward to officially meeting you come Monday. You came highly recommended. I'm glad I was afforded the opportunity to hire you."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Clarissa replied, though without the warmth that seemed to come natural to her, before anyone else could aside from something that sounded like a growl that escaped Len. "Have a lovely evening."

Barry almost breathed a sigh of relief when Wells only response was to simply turn and leave, followed by Jax who bid a hasty farewell. Barry felt a little better when Len had growled at Wells' not so subtle reminder he was in fact Barry's boss, only because it made him feel like maybe he'd been imagining Len purposely ignoring him.

That small up lift disappeared when they all made their way to the kitchen leaving Barry in the living room unsure as to whether or not he should follow. Regardless of how jumbled he felt, he thought the right thing to go and check on Len and make sure he was alright. Well, as alright as he could be all things considered. After a steadying deep breath, he made his way to the kitchen.

Clarissa spared him a smile, which made him feel like he'd done the right thing, even Dr. Snow spared him a nod before telling Len to finish washing the blood off of himself, because he wouldn't be able to get his stitches wet. Len on the other hand ignored Barry's entrance completely. It hurt despite the fact he'd sort of expected it.

Barry wasn't really planning on doing or saying anything. He just wanted to hear Dr. Snow say Len was alright, and maybe see it for himself, but when Len winced and sucked in a breath as he tried to wipe around the gash on his forehead making it bleed again, Barry found his feet moving of their own accord.

"Here, let me," the words were out of his mouth before he fully realized he'd spoken, but grabbed a clean wash cloth out of the warm bowl of water anyway.

He wrung it out careful, not to get everything wet before he forced himself to meet Len's eyes, and just as before slowly reached out and gently rested his hand on the side of Len's face. It was like the weight of the world lifted from his shoulder when Len's eyes slid closed, but that didn't last.

After a few seconds, just as Barry's other hand neared, Len's eyes snapped open and he jerked his head back, his eyes glinted with something Barry couldn't quite read, but it made his chest ache and his eyes sting.

"I… I'm sorry, I just," Barry stuttered out as he took a step back. He'd known it was probably a stupid thing to do when he'd done it, but he just wanted to help, to apologize, for Len not to be mad at him, or hate him. "I was just… I just wanted to help."

"I think you've done quite enough for one evening," Len replied in that hard, cold voice he'd yet to use with Barry.

Before Barry could even react Len hoped off the table and stormed down the hall without sparing anyone another glace.

Barry would have preferred the glaring or maybe shouting; suddenly certain it would have hurt less. It felt like such a stupid thing to think, but he couldn't help it, the cold indifference hurt more than he'd imagined.

Today had been such an emotional roller coaster and Barry was struggling to hang on. He'd left his home and his friends and family… his eyes began to brim even as he tried to push the thoughts away. When it was clear that he wasn't going to be able to, he did the only thing he could do; he fled.

He'd been so sure, if there were even such things, he'd, they'd, had a "moment". Barry had always been skeptical of such thing, but everything in him suddenly screamed they were real, and they'd had one. From the moment he looked into Len's eyes and everything meshed, like he was truly seeing him for the first time, and actually being seen... and Barry had somehow managed to ruin it.

The promise he'd made to himself, that tomorrow would be better, seemed an impossibility as his tears began to actually fall.


	4. Chapter 4

Sleep had proven impossible well after Barry heard Clarissa and Dr. Snow leave. He'd felt a surprising wave of relief when they did, if only because it meant Len was okay. He was confident that neither woman would relent if Len required monitoring. Still, that only lasted a short while. More than once Barry had the urge to sneak down stairs to check on him, just to be sure, after everything aside from the creaking and sporadic thumps had fallen silent.

He'd been cured of that impulse after the first time he'd given in and as soon as he reached the top landing the down stairs shower turned on. Barry had frozen wondering if it was a coincidence or if Len had heard him moving around. While he was sorely tempted to go down anyway and at least remind the other man he wasn't to get his stitches wet, he was fairly certain that would only serve to incur his housemate's wrath. He'd quickly shuffled back to his room and stayed put after that.

Not long after he heard what he thought was Len's bedroom door open and close quietly, but before he could even decide whether or not to just bite the bullet and offer his apologies, he heard the front door then the revving of a motor cycle engine. It seemed to be coming from out by the street, and not the drive, but he knew Len was gone.

It made Barry feel so much worse because he felt as though he'd driven the man out of his own home, not to mention he had no idea how to fix this, or if he could fix it.

Barry wasn't exactly sure what Len was mad about. Getting smacked in the head with a hockey stick should have been a given, but Barry wasn't sure that was all it was. Len seemed to have been angrier, at first at least, that Barry could have been seriously hurt and or killed.

It could have easily been because Barry invaded his personal space. Dr. Snow, someone he seemed to know pretty well, hadn't even touched him during her examination, and here Barry was, someone he'd just met and not under the best of circumstances, invading his bubble.

At the time he hadn't really thought about it, because he'd just wanted to help, but that was around when it all seemed to go downhill. What if Len could tell Barry wanted to kiss him? That he probably would have if Jax hadn't shown up, which was concerning, because that wasn't like Barry at all.

Len was Adonis personified, and even if he had been flirting with him at the diner, which Barry very much doubted, especially now, maybe when he realized they lived together he decided it wasn't worth the hassle.

Maybe it hadn't been desire he'd seen in the other man's eyes after all. Someone like Len could have whoever he wanted at the drop of a dime. The way Jax had thrown out that Len had been smitten with him, Barry didn't think it had anything to do with him being a man, but with him being Barry.

That thought made his chest ache. There were so many possibilities, and regardless of which one it was, maybe it really was best for Len to throw him out.

On top of those miserable musing and bouncing back and forth between packing what little he'd brought in and going to a motel, Barry couldn't stop his skin from crawling. The natural creepiness of the house was getting to him. Intellectually Barry knew old houses creaked and not every bump in the night had supernatural origins, but the house felt haunted. Worse than that, every creak, bump, or thump now sent a wave of scorn through him, because it's what had been the catalyst for the whole disaster.

As dawn broke he found himself wondering whether or not Len only told Jax about the ghost, because Jax thought this place was haunted too. As though Len was attempting, in his own way, to make Barry feel better about his silliness. Letting him know, while Len thought he was being stupid, Barry wasn't alone in his ridiculousness.

That was where Barry drew the line, and forced himself out from under the covers. That kind of hope was dangerous, especially for Barry, who had the worst luck in love, or even like, if he was being real.

Forcing himself to get moving so as to distract himself proved easier than keeping occupied once he finally managed to get started. His thoughts never strayed far from Len for too long.

It was after 1030 by the time he finished the tasks he'd assigned himself, including cleaning the already clean kitchen, which had apparently been taken care of last night after he fled, which made him feel worse. He imagined Len cleaning up the mess once he was doctored, somehow sure he would insist on doing it himself. The blood stains in the hall and living room had been taken care of as well. In fact, everything seemed to be in order as far as he could tell.

What had taken so long was something he's struggled with even after it was done. Unloading the rest of his things and putting them away. Most of the night had been spent racked with guilt and flip flopping back and forth between just packing up and not even waiting for Len to ask him to leave, or waiting it out. Both choices were less than desirable.

Still, with lack of anything else to do, he thought unpacking would at least prevent Len from thinking he still expected his help, and while it was something he tried to ignore, a small part of him sort of hoped that if he was unpacked Len might hesitate to ask him to leave at all.

Not that he held much hope for the later.

It was a bit worrisome that despite everything that happened, along with the foreboding he'd been struck with at nearing his new home, not to mention being all but positive Len hated him, Barry didn't actually want to leave. Barry realized more than anything he wanted to make it up to Len somehow. That only seemed to increase his anxieties of their next encounter.

Eventually it had gotten to be too much, sitting in the creepy house all alone, worrying, waiting, with his anxiety mounting. Eventually he called to have the prescription transferred he'd forgotten to fill before he left to the local pharmacy, needing not only to get out and do something, but also pretty sure he was going to need it if he decided to stay. That he already needed it.

Moving was stressful enough when it was a smooth transition, and this, had been decidedly not smooth, so while he felt a little weak at having to rely on medication, but he reminded himself it was okay, and he wasn't to blame or chastise himself. It didn't help a whole lot. Though, sometimes it didn't help at all, so he counted that as a victory.

It was difficult when your illness was telling you, you were wrong, or it was all your fault, or even that there was nothing wrong at all, along with having people who just didn't understand throwing in their own two cents, it wasn't always easy to accept, even if it was intellectually rational to do so. Barry had been dealing with it long enough, since his mother was murdered, to be able to distinguish the difference between what he was feeling and thinking as compared to what he "knew", most of the time anyway, but it still didn't make it any easier.

It was like stress on top of stress.

As with most of what he'd seen of his new town the pharmacy wasn't far from his new home. It was sort of nice to know it wasn't going to be easy to get lost, which was good thing considering his sense of direction, but it also meant his distraction errand wasn't going to take as long as he hoped.

The pharmacy was 3 blocks over from the police station and hard to miss with the giant old fashioned sign that simply read "DRUGS" which made Barry smile for some reason. When he pulled open the door a bell chimed and even if the place wasn't small enough to see the pharmacy part in the back behind a half dozen shelves he would have had no trouble locating it quickly, because who he assumed was the pharmacist greeted him readily.

"Mr. Allen I presume," a handsome man with short brown hair smiled warmly at him.

"Um, yea," Barry replied a little nervously, still not used to the whole "everybody knows your name" thing. "I had a prescription transferred here… is it um, ready?"

"It is," the other man set down his book and maneuvered from behind the counter before motioning for Barry to follow him speaking over his shoulder as he led him towards the back. "I'm Rob, by the way."

"Hi, Rob," Barry said a little awkwardly wanting to introduce himself as well out of habit, but since this guy already knew who he was, he settled on a compliment of sorts. "I like your sign."

"The sign?" Rob laughed good naturedly lifting part of the counter so as to get behind it, old fashioned indeed, Barry thought somewhat fondly as Rob continued. "I'll have to tell my husband; he thinks we need to mix a little more "new" in with the "old" around here. Appeal to the masses as it were, so I thank you. I personally love it. It makes me smile, but ever since the diner was renovated last year he thinks we should all update things a bit." Rob turned and smiled at him over his shoulder as he continued to card through prescription bags. "He's the mayor, so he says it's his duty to look after the towns best interest, as though tourism would ever be a thing here."

Rob rolled his eyes, though with a fondness that made Barry return the smile.

"Ah, here we are," Rob said suddenly a bit triumphantly before standing again with a second bag Barry was sure wasn't his.

"Um, I only had one…" Barry trailed off a little confused as the little white bags were set on the counter before him and Rob turned away again rummaging through a bin.

"Yea, but Dr. Snow came in a bit ago and dropped that second one off," Barry tried to think of what the hell Dr. Snow would have prescribed him, but that mystery was solved as Rob continued. "Poor Len, silly man's been at work since well before dawn even after last night's fiasco. Stubborn ass that he is, someone's gotta take care of him."

Barry's face flushed brilliantly at Rob's words, and the idea that everyone knew what a dolt he was already delayed his questioning why this man was giving him Len's prescription.

"Clarissa was gonna come pick it up in a bit," Rob shook it head as he set a pill cutter on the counter, "but since you're here anyway, and from what I've heard you'll probably have better luck than anyone to get him to take it, it's probably best if you give it to him. Len doesn't let anyone take care of him, but takes care of everyone else. He needs someone like you in his life, ya know?"

Barry was speechless for a moment, because he had no idea what to even think about what Rob had just told him let alone how to respond to it. Whatever Rob heard about him and Len… well, he'd been misinformed, because he was positive Len hated him. Even with his surety, he blushed a deeper shade of red.

How did everyone else seem to see that opposite of what he did?

"I can't take someone else's prescription," Barry said instead after an extended moment of Rob smiling fondly at him in much the same way Clarissa had.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not mine," Barry replied, and had no idea how a pharmacist couldn't see that it wasn't a good idea to give him someone else's prescription, housemate or not.

Not that Barry would do anything with it aside from make sure Len got it, especially because he needed it, but Rob didn't know anything about Barry, aside, apparently, from the fact he'd attacked his roommate with a hockey stick.

"You gonna do anything with it besides give it to him?" Rob asked with a cocked eye brow.

"Well, no, but that's not the point," Barry replied. "You don't know me."

"I read your file," Rob informed him waving away his concerns. "David brought it home when Well's wanted to hire you, and I'm nosey." Rob didn't seem a bit sorry for invading his privacy. "Besides, I am spectacular at reading people, and from what I understand Len's in pretty bad shape, so the sooner he gets it the better, and seeing as how you had a huge part in all that… I figured you'd want to make it up to him."

Barry wasn't stupid he was well aware this man was using his guilt against him, but that didn't mean it didn't work. He was also aware it wasn't out of any kind of malice, so it made it hard to be mad about that, but he couldn't exactly hide his annoyance at the fact it felt like everyone was in on some big secret, but him.

"Clarissa said she's never seen him smile or laugh like that before, smitten was the word she'd used." Rob said a bit softer and his smile now looked somewhat sad. "He's not perfect by any means, but he's a good man, don't let him fool you into thinking he's not… or anyone else for that matter."

He wanted to ask him if all the gossiping was standard for a small town, or if in this particular town they were all just nosy like him, but he didn't, because suddenly that hope he'd been trying to squish down flared once again, along with anger at the memory of Grodd and Wells bias. Rob saw this and didn't wait to give Barry a chance to change his mind.

"That's the ticket," Rob said much happier ringing it all up, and bagging it before Barry, who was still very conflicted could change his mind.

Feeling a bit awkward, embarrassed and slightly steam rolled, Barry thanked Rob, after the man rattled off instructions for both prescriptions. Apparently Rob wasn't finished saying his piece, because as soon as his hand was on the door the other man called after him.

"Make him dinner," Rob lifted the counter to get out from behind it. "Even if you're not a spectacular cook, Len will appreciate the gesture. It's how he shows he cares…"

Rob trailed off looking a bit sad again, and despite the feeling there was some sort of conspiracy, not exactly against him, but about him, Barry nodded. He really did want to make it up to Len. Rob's words made more sense when he thought about how Len's special Piecake recipe was something he created for his sister, and the fact he'd apologized with it. He hadn't exactly consciously made a decision so far as saying yes, I'm going to make dinner, or no, I'm not, but he was already wondering what exactly he could make well, that Len might like.

Barry clutched the little white bag with a white knuckled grip as he took a deep breath and pulled open the glass door of the diner not ten minutes later, which was much too soon as far as his nerves were concerned.

He hadn't planned on visiting the diner any time in the near future, not even for Piecake, but he couldn't come up with any reason that didn't send pangs of guilt through him not to bring Len his super Tylenol straight away. Besides not liking the idea of Len being in pain one iota, the fact that it was his fault left him with no real choice.

"Good morning," a young girl with dark brown hair said with a brilliant smile, which felt as false as her cheer. "Will you be breaking your fast alone, or are you waiting on someone."

Barry's stomach sort of dropped as he quickly glanced around searching for Clarissa, who'd he'd hoped to pass the bag off to. Sure, he wanted to make it up to Len, but he wasn't ready to see him yet, and in a public place none the less. What if Len was still furious with him, and yelled at him or something? No, he'd much rather have that happen in private.

"Um, neither," Barry managed when he looked back at the girl who was looking at him with an impatient cocked eyebrow. "Is Clarissa here?"

"Nope, boss gave her the day off."

"Oh," Barry swallowed hard unsure of what to do now.

His plan very much depended on Clarissa. Len's text popped into his head unbidden, "you can't plan for everything, though I certainly make an effort." Len was not something Barry ever though he'd have to plan for in his dizziest day dreams, for reasons he'd rather leave untouched for now.

"Anything I can help you with?"

"I, um," Barry tried to think of a way around having to see or talk to Len just yet, because he wasn't ready, but he was just as uncomfortable leaving Len's prescription with someone he didn't know as he was with taking it in the first place. "I, um, just need to drop these off for Len?"

"Then why'd you ask for Clarissa?" the girl asked with a glint in her eyes that was either suspicions or excited amusement.

Barry had never been very good at reading things like that, especially when he was wracked with nerves.

"Well, I, um, I didn't," Barry tried to think of any other reason besides the real one. "I figured he was busy, and I, um, I didn't want to bother him while he was working."

"You saying waitresses don't work hard?"

"What? No, I just," he flushed as he tried to back pedal not liking the way the girl's eyes narrowed in an oddly familiar way or the way she cocked her hip in a strangely defiant manner. "Of course not! I just, well, I…"

"Chill, Barry," the girl smirked apparently deciding she'd let him flounder enough. "Yea, I know who you are, everyone does, small town," she said noting his surprise. "I just wanted to see if you were as adorable as Bette said all flustered and blushing."

"That… that wasn't very nice," Barry replied after a moment, because it wasn't, but the pause was more so because he didn't like the idea of everyone knowing who he was when he didn't know who they were, and they were all apparently talking about him.

Not just him, but him and Len, at that.

"Happens," the girl shrugged, not waiting for a reply before turning away and heading straight for the kitchen door pushing it open. "Hey, Lenny, Wayne Gretzky's here to see you!"

Barry was positive the shade of red he turned at her words wasn't even on the spectrum as more than one set of eyes found him. He did his best to act normal and take a seat at the counter, though he spared the girl a glare as she flitted by smirking smugly.

It shouldn't have surprised him that it only made her smirk widened as she passed him by. It also left no doubt in his mind that, that had to be Lisa.

Before he could think on it too much, the kitchen door pushed open causing his heart to skip a beat before it began to race. Len's eyes found his immediately, and that pleasant shiver ran up his spine, though Len, despite his mask, looked somehow almost as uncertain as Barry felt. On top of it all, and while he didn't know how it was possible, even with the stitches and not so subtle bruising from where he'd clocked him, Len looked just as gorgeous as ever.

It stole the prepared words from his mouth and the air from his lungs.

Despite feeling several pairs of eyes on them as Len made his way over to where he was seated Barry mouth went dry and he couldn't force himself to speak for an extended moment. His anxiety spiked a bit more.

It didn't help that Len seemed to be more so unwilling, than unable as was Barry's case, to speak first. That more than anything reminded Barry that all this was his fault, and that he needed to try and make it right, even if Len still wanted to kick him out anyway. He had to try.

"Um," Barry started swallowing hard, before pushing the prescription bag towards Len, if only to buy an extra second. "I… I didn't really feel comfortable taking them, because they're not mine, obviously, but Rob insisted. So… once I had them I thought I'd bring them to you, just in case you needed them, which obviously you do. Thanks… thanks to me…"

Barry swallowed again forcing himself to keep his housemate's eyes. He knew he was rambling, but he also knew it was the only way he could get it all out.

"Which I am really, really sorry about, by the way. I know I told you already, but I don't think… well, I'm just so sorry, Len. I totally understand if you hate me. I don't blame you in the least, not that I want you to hate me though. I want you to like me," Barry's ears burned at realizing what he'd said, especially when the ghost of a smirk appeared on the other man's face. "Not, like me, like me, unless you want to, but I'd hoped we could at least be friends…"

Barry wanted to quite while he was behind. Trying to remedy his blabbering was only making it worse, but apparently his punishment for being, well, him was to embarrass himself whenever possible. Something sparkled in Len's eyes at his words, and even if he was embarrassed, the fact that his house mate's ghost of a smirk turned into what he thought might be a ghost of a smile, made it impossible.

He suddenly held real hope not all was lost.

"Oh, god," he took a deep breath trying to steady himself looking away hoping it would help, before he looked back up. His heart fluttered when he thought he saw Len fighting a smile, while watching him intently. It did nothing for his nerves. "I just said all that out loud, I do that sometimes. Not on purpose of course. I don't actually like embarrassing myself, though it's something I could win a gold medal for."

Barry wanted to ease any concerns Len might have about him. He'd been up all night thinking about them and how he would let Len know he didn't have to worry. This was far from ideal, but he wanted to get it all out while he had the chance. Still, he found himself looking down at his twiddling thumbs unable to meet Len's eyes as he continued.

"Anyway I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me, or anything." Barry's blush crept all the way down his chest as he forced himself to keep going though haltingly. "I… I mean, I know, well… we live together, and I know, well, I think you… last night when I was going to… when I was trying to help…" he faltered a bit, this hitting a bit closer to home than the rest.

The memory of telling Iris about how he felt popped into his head unbidden; being shot down, having to move, not wanting to move again… but he managed to continue, if only for another sentence.

"I promise, I won't… touch you or anything again, without asking, so you don't have to worry about that or… or me trying to… well you know."

Barry felt like he had more to say, or at least should apologize again. If not for last night, for this. Suddenly this felt like an awful idea, especially when the other man didn't reply right away, but he couldn't force himself to look up at him. He felt as though he'd somehow just made things worse than they were before. It was all he could do not to flee.

His heart was hammering in his chest instead of fluttering now, and he felt his palms start to sweat. This was probably the worst possible time for this. He hadn't wanted to take his medicine before he got home again, because it made him sleepy, and now he realized that was a mistake.

He wanted to offer to move out, despite not wanting to in the least, suddenly unsure as to whether he could actually handle Len asking him to, but he didn't trust himself to speak without sounding breathless, it all only made it worse.

Stress on top of stress, and as it usually did, which was the worst part, to hit him rather suddenly.

Just as his breathing became noticeably uneven without even hearing him speak, he felt fingertips under his chin, gently encouraging him to lift his head.

"Hey, look at me."

Len's voice was quiet, encouraging Barry to comply as the other man took his hand and pressed it against his chest.

"Breathe with me."

Barry's eyes widened a bit and darted away remembering there were people around, and they were watching them.

"Don't worry about them, focus on me."

Len ordered drawing Barry's eyes back to him.

"Deep even breathes."

Len encouraged, his voice gentle again as he maneuvered his fingers to grip Barry's chin so as to keep Barry to focus solely on him.

"Breath with me."

Len pressed Barry's hand a little firmer against his chest, signaling for Barry to concentrate on that, before he began to softly counting to 4, taking a deep breath in, and then to 6 as he released it.

"It's okay."

Len assured him as Barry's frustration showed when couldn't follow at first.

"Just keep trying it'll come. Stay focused on me and your breathing."

Barry did just that. He tried to mimic Len's deep even breathes, matching the rise and fall of the other man's chest as best he could. Len's eyes never left his as he continued to count and offer soft encouragements; never letting go, never giving him a chance to focus on anything else.

"That's it, just like that." Len encouraged when Barry's breathing finally evened out again, though now that he'd managed to stave off a major panic attack, which would have been much worse, he felt his face flush in embarrassment.

"Don't you dare," Len said firmly, his voice raising only slightly, though the hand cupping his chin remained as gentle as ever. "This isn't something you should be embarrassed about."

Barry was a little shocked that Len seemed to know what he was thinking before he could actually complete the thought, but nodded gratefully at the reminder. While, it was embarrassing, and he was definitely embarrassed, Barry was mostly grateful.

"Thank you," Barry said quietly once he felt he could speak again without a tremor.

Len offered him a small smile, and a nod. Barry was farther grateful when Len he found no trace of pity in Len's eyes. Sympathy, maybe, but no pity.

"I'm sorry," Barry said after a beat, because he was, not for the panic attack per se, but everything. "I really am."

"Not your fault," Len said straightening up as he'd leaned across the counter when he was talking Barry through his mini panic attack.

"That's not…"

"I know," Len cut him off gently, but didn't continue, at least not to him, instead he turned to the girl who had given him a hard time when he'd first come in who was glaring at a few people who quickly looked away when they'd noticed they'd been caught. "Sin, I'm taking off."

"We can handle it, Bette'll be here soon, anyway," Sin gave Len a thumbs up, and Barry decided despite her tricking him when he first came he, he like her when he found no pity in her eyes either, just understanding.

"You don't…" Barry said when he realized Len was cutting out of work because of him. "I'm okay, I don't want you to get in trouble."

"I won't, it's my day off," Len said unconcernedly. "Besides, I'm the boss, so I get to come and go when I please within reason, of course."

Just like that his gorgeous rude biker was back, well, at least his smirk anyway.

"Go get in the car," Len told him, his voice leaving no room for debate. "Let me get my things, and I'll take you home."

Barry wanted to argue, because he had come here to apologize and try and start to make things up to Len, not farther inconvenience him, but Len didn't give him a chance, before he turned away and headed through the kitchen door. He sat there staring at the swinging door as he had last night for a long moment. Suddenly very unsure as to his original assessment. There was a very good chance this could be heaven, or at least he had hope.


End file.
